


(I Can't Figure Out a Good Title but I Promise This Work is Good)

by panicatthemarvel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Avengers - Freeform, Big Brother Steve, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Depression, F/M, Hydra, POV First Person, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Slow Build, Slow Romance, essa rogers is a badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9143908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicatthemarvel/pseuds/panicatthemarvel
Summary: The story of a girl raised by Steve Rogers and kidnapped by Hydra.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people reading this! I've been writing this story for about two years now...It's not my hobby or passion or something I aspire to do as a career, I just had the thought for this storyline and decided to start writing. Because it's not my priority, I can't guarantee when it will be updated. I'm constantly making changes, or I'll go months without looking at it. Also...it will mostly be in first person point of view, but occasionally I'll add a few paragraphs from Bucky's POV. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

*Bucky's POV*

We found her by accident, to be honest. Sam and I had just infiltrated one of Hydra's lesser bases. I went to the left, Sam to the right. I proceeded to break open the doors of every cell containing a SHIELD agent. I kept going down the hall in case I missed a door. At a dead end, I found a small door, hidden in the corner, big enough to be a broom closet. At first glance it didn't look suspicious, just an average maintenance room, but this small door had several high security locks. Fortunately, none upheld a bullet.

    She was there, slumped against the wall, her hands chained above her head. A faint glow resonated from her chest. An arc reactor, but it looked old and rusted. With electrical cords plugged into it, running through a hole in the wall off to the right. Her eyes were closed and a gag bound her mouth.

I ran back the way I came, shouting for Sam, not caring that I could jeopardize the whole mission.

    "Sam!" I yelled down the opposite hallway. I could see his form running toward me.

    "What the fuck, Barnes?"

    "Follow me," I said as I turned and ran back to her cell. "We've got a civilian." I shouted over my shoulder.

I led Sam into the room, where she lay in the same position as I found her, unmoved.

    "The hell...?" He said. "You work on the gag and cords. I'll get the chains."

    I bent down, our eyes at the same level. I felt her pulse. Barely there. With no other choice, I grabbed the cords and pulled. Her eyes opened immediately and I nearly jumped back. The color of the moon, they were an icy silver, almost visibly glowing. Her chest started heaving and I put my hands up.

    "I need you to calm down. I'm going to cut the gag, but I need you to stay still so I don't accidentally cut you."

    She nodded and I brought the knife up to her mouth. As soon as the gag fell, I heard the clank of the breaking chains. She gasped, and Sam and I extended our hands, pulling her up. As soon as she was on her feet, we let go, and she stumbled. I scooped her into my arms and we ran back to the plane, Sam shouting for everyone to get in. Within minutes we were in the sky.

    I made my way to the back of the plane, where the small infirmary was. I'd noticed her eyes were closed again. I laid her down on the stretcher and stepped back, letting the doctors take it from there. I watched them struggle with what to do and end up reattaching electrical cords to her arc reactor.

She sat straight up, suddenly full of energy, ethereal eyes wide open. She looked down at the reactor, sighed, and yanked the cords out. The light began blinking out. She smacked it with the heel of her palm and the light shine steadily.

    "And that's all you have to do," she said.

I smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will always be in Essa's POV unless specifically stated otherwise

I have never had a worse headache. The pain thumping from my brain resonates through my body, specifically in the places I'm injured. I look down to assess the damage. Raw, bleeding wrists, various cuts and bruises, a ring of blood around the reactor, and a deep gash across my left calf.

    "Shit." I mumble. "Bandages, running water?" I ask the doctors to my left.

    "Rubbing alcohol." Says the brunette off to my right. He stands next to a black guy, both with arms crossed.

    I groan. "Fine. Get me some?" I ask. One of the doctors hands me a bottle and some bandages tentatively.    

    "Don't worry, I'm not going to drink it."

The brunette snickers.

The black guy waves the doctors out, and the other holds out his hands.

    "Here, let me."

I keep my wrists close to my body, looking for something else.

    "Bucky," he says, then gestures to the black guy. "Sam."

    "Thank you," I say, looking at him pointedly. "James."

He pauses, taken aback.

    "Bucky? Do you know her?" Sam says, confused.

    "I don't---"

    "Give it a minute," I say.

    The muscles in his face relax, and he remembers. "You were there, you were the girl..."

    I nod. "We also have a mutual friend."

    Sam is still lost. "What...?"

    "Where Steve found me at the Hydra facility, I wasn't the only one. There were dozens of other experimental cells. Her screams were the loudest." James says, his brow creasing. "I don't know what you mean about the friend." He shakes his head. "If they just replaced my arm, I can't even imagine what they did to you."

    In response, I turn my back to them, lifting my hair up, revealing the metal panel installed at the base of my skull, sitting atop my spine. I feel fingers brush across the metal, and I stiffen, letting my hair fall and turning around. A lump forms in my throat at the looks on their faces, but I force it down.

    "Well don't just look at me like I'm a kicked puppy," I say, holding my wrists out.

Bucky steps forward, soaks a cloth in rubbing alcohol, and presses it to my wrist. I bite down a shriek.

    "Damn, they aren't kidding when they say that stings." I grimace when he circles my wrist, making sure to clean the entire wound. He does the same with my other hand.

    "After he's finished with my wrists, he soaks a new cloth in alcohol. He looks up at me sympathetically. "This is going to hurt," he gestures to my chest.

    I lay down. "Yeah, just do it already."

My shirt is already torn around the reactor, so he presses the cloth straight onto my skin. The alcohol bites into my wounds.

    "Shit," I say, clenching my fists. My nails dig into my palms, creating half moon cuts. Blood drips down my arms and I squeeze my eyes shut.

I feel the cloth lift from my skin a few seconds later, and I sit up immediately, awkwardly holding my arms in front of me, palms up.

Bucky makes a face at me and attacks my palms with the alcohol, redressing the blood soaked bandages on my wrists and wrapping my palms as well.

    "As much as I imagine that hurt, the cut on your leg is deep. It's going to need stitches later, but for right now all I can do is clean and dress it." He says after he finishes redressing my arms.

    "Have at it."

When he presses the alcohol soaked cloth to my leg, it feels like someone is tearing my skin apart. I shut my eyes and breathe deeply, counting my breaths until he secures the gauze around the wound.

    "Holy fucking shit." I sit up slowly, slightly light headed from breathing so deeply.

    "What's your name?" Bucky asks, ignoring my obscenities.

    "Essa." I respond. I watch Sam step out of the room, looking down at a phone. A few seconds later he steps back in.

    "We're on our way to the Triskelion. Fury wants to meet you. He's calling a meeting."

    "Alright then."

Sam hands me a glass of water, which I hold delicately in the tips of my fingers.

    "Hey Essa?" Bucky asks.

    "Hmm?" I look up at him over the rim of the glass.

    "That wasn't the same facility we were at. Why did they move you?"

    "One guess." I say, setting the glass of water down on the table next to me. When no one responds, I answer for them.

    "I tried to escape. Got pretty damn far, too. They had worked too long and spent too much money on me that they needed to make sure I didn't get away. They moved me to where you just found me, and increased the security."

    "Spent too much money? What did they do?" Bucky continues.

    "I have had a total of 22 surgeries. Some minor, some more extensive. Some pretty random. One to give me night vision, which also changed my eye color, one to alter my metabolism so I can't gain or lose weight, one to make me ambidextrous, one to ensure my heart stays at a steady beat constantly, unaffected by the reactor, which doesn't work as well as it should, as you saw, one to perfect my immune system, one to implant 27 languages in my brain. They changed my native language to Russian." I sigh and look down.

    "You guys picked me up just before my last surgery. One that would control me more effectively, and permanently, than Bucky's brainwash."

    "How'd you get the reactor?" Sam asks.

    "Same as your buddy Stark. Guy in the cell next to me somehow created a makeshift bomb and set it off. Killed him, injured me. It was surprisingly powerful. They took from Stark and stuck a magnet in my chest."

With that, the plane jolts as the wheels touch the ground.

     I swing my legs over the edge of the stretcher and stand up slowly. I follow Bucky and Sam out of the infirmary and then the plane, limping slightly.

Immediately I shut my eyes. It's been so long since I've seen the sun that it's nearly blinding. Not wanting to get left behind, I reluctantly open my eyes, covering the sun with my hands. We walk into the Triskelion.

Standing in an elevator is so mundane, and awkward, that I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. It seems such a strange contrast from imprisonment.

After going up what seemed like, and probably was, a hundred floors, we finally got off the elevator. Endless hallways and turns later, we enter a secure office. Bucky had to give a retinal scan in order for us to enter.

    In the office stands Fury, in a long black coat, Romanoff, leaning against a desk, inspecting her nails, Barton, counting arrows, Stark messing with something on his phone, and Banner, arms crossed, staring out the window. The only one missing was---

    Bucky furrows his brow and says, "Hold on." He walks out of the room, down the hall, speaks with someone on the phone, then walks back in a minute later, followed by his best friend.

    Bucky enters first. "What the hell is so important that we ALL have to be there--" a familiar voice says just outside the door. Steve Rogers walks in.

I can't help it. I break into a smile.

    "Hey stranger." I say.

    He stands at the door, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. "Essa?" He says after a moment. I nod.

He takes two strides toward me and pulls me into a hug.

    "What the hell did they do to you?" He whispers.

    "You don't want to know," I respond, so only he can hear.

I pull back, smiling in an effort to hide the pain in my eyes I know he'll see.

    "I assume you've met before." Fury's voice pierces the silence.

    I turn to look at him. "That's the thing about Hydra; they don't take random girls off the street, they take from the enemy. Steve adopted me from an orphanage in upstate New York when I was 9. He was the big brother I never had. And then Hydra kidnapped me three years ago."

    A pause. "I'm Essa, by the way."

    Fury chuckles sarcastically. "I kinda figured that."

    "Look, I realize you want all the information I might have. I don't have a lot, but I'll tell you what I know. Can we do it later? I'm kind of covered in blood, I'm pretty sure I need stitches somewhere, and I haven't slept in days."

    Fury nods. "Yeah, I'll call a meeting in a few days. Dismissed,"

    "Yessir," I say mockingly, under my breath.

    Before I can leave, Tony walks up to me, one hand in a pocket. "Nice reactor."

    "I would say thanks, but--" 

    "It was a painful experience."

    "Yeah."

    "I get it. Look, I have to leave, but I wanna talk to you later, get all the details. I'll call Cap sometime."

    "Uh, okay," I say to his back as he walks out the door.

As the rest of them file out, one by one, I turn to Steve. "Can I--"

    "Of course. It's home." He says quickly.

    "Thanks," I smile.

    A cold hand rests on my shoulder, and I don't need to turn to know that it's Bucky. "Do you mind if I accompany her? Having been through what she's experienced...it's awful."

    Steve nods. "Yeah, of course. Same goes for you."

I smile to Bucky, and we follow suit.


	3. Chapter 3

A short plane ride later, courtesy of Stark, just as the sun sets, we arrive in Brooklyn, at Steve's apartment. We walk up the stairs to the fifth floor, stretching our legs and yawning.

    "Is--" I begin.

    "Everything is still in your room." Steve finishes.

    I smile. "Thanks."

    I walk down the hall slowly, legs aching from the stairs. Toward the end of the hall, I reach my old bedroom. The walls still covered in posters, ranging from different bands to pictures of the planets.

Grabbing a selection of clothes still in my dresser, I head to the shower, peeling off the gauze on my wounds and staying under the water long after it goes cold. By the time I step out, the apartment is quiet. As I walk back to my room, I look down at my injuries. Several cuts on my arms need stitches, as well as the gash on my leg. I sigh. I hate needles. I grab the first aid kit from the bathroom and step into the hallway.

    I look down to the left, where Steve sits on the couch, turned away from me. I know he wants to know what happened, what I went through, but I'm not ready yet.

Bucky occupies the room across from mine. The door is closed and it's quiet, but I see light shining from the bottom of the door. I knock quietly.

    "Yeah?" Comes his voice from inside.

I open the door slowly and walk into the room, closing the door behind me. Bucky sits on the bed, ankles crossed, reading a book.

    "Hey. I need stitches on my arms and leg, but I hate needles so I can't do it myself, and I'm not ready to talk to Steve yet, so that leaves you."

Bucky smiles and sits up, holding his hands out. I hand the kit to him and sit down across from him, holding out my arms.

    "No promises that they'll be pretty, but I'll do my best." He rummages through the kit, taking out a needle and thread, and alcohol wipes. "There isn't any numbing medicine in here, so it's gonna hurt a lot."

    "I know. I took Advil earlier, that should help some."

    Bucky takes my left arm, inspecting the injuries and cleaning them once again. It still stings. "I'm gonna start with the cut on your forearm." He looks up at me. "Seriously, this is going to hurt. Talk to me, distract yourself. Tell me about your life before hydra."

    I take a deep breath as the needle first pierces my skin. "I was a straight A student in school, middle school and high school. History was my favorite subject because it either happened or it didn't, there's no room for bullshit answers, which was why I didn't like English. And I didn't like math because everyone always tells you there's only one right answer, except when there's more than one. History is as straightforward as it can get. I didn't have any friends or do any clubs or sports. It was pretty much school and home, which was fine with me. I'm not a very social person. Steve was the only person in my life that mattered."

The stitches are pulled taut as he finishes and knots the thread. I take another deep breath as he moves to my leg.

    "Every Friday when I got home from school Steve and I would walk to the ice cream shop down the street and talk until we didn't have anything left to say. Steve never introduced me to any of his Avenger friends, and he never mentioned me to them either. To this day I don't know how he managed to do that. I knew about them, sure, but they never knew about me."

Blood drips down to my ankle and Bucky pats at the wound with an alcohol wipe.

    "Uumm, I was the only kid in the orphanage that didn't care about their birth parents. If they want to find me, I'm sure they can. They could be Hydra for all I know. Hmm, I've always wanted a dog, and I tried to convince Steve for so long to get one, but it didn't work. I suggested hamsters, or a bird, or even a turtle. But he wouldn't get any. I still really want a pet. Preferably a puppy, but at this point, I'll take anything. Except a cat. I am not a cat person."

My leg is throbbing and fucking hurts.

    "To this day I don't know who named me. I don't know if it was someone on the orphanage staff, or my parents, but whoever named me is an asshole. Celestial isn't a name, it's a fucking adjective. Absolutely ridiculous. I hate my name. And I'm only telling you this right now because I'm in a lot of pain and I'm not really focusing on filtering my words right now."

At this point I realize my eyes are squeezed shut. When I open them I see Bucky smirking at me, my leg stitched up and the kit put back together.

    "I've been done since you started talking about pets. Your injuries are probably throbbing so badly that you couldn't feel when I stopped stitching them."

    I grab a pillow and throw it at him. "Screw you, Barnes!"

He laughs at me as I hop off the bed and limp out the door, huffing the whole way.

I begin back to my room, but decide I need to talk to Steve before I go to bed. I head to the living room, where I know Steve will still be awake, reading a book or googling random things on his laptop. Ever since he was unfrozen, he stays up late at night catching up on everything he missed. Literally everything. History, pop culture, music, popular authors and books, even fashion and beauty trends.

Sure enough, he's still on the couch, computer in his lap, a Wikipedia article about James Meredith pulled up. I sit on the opposite side of the couch, knees to my chest. He looks up.

    "Hey. Couldn't sleep?" He notices my leg. "Are you all stitched up?"

    "Yeah, Buck helped me." I say. 

    "How did you stay busy these past three years without me around?" I ask jokingly.

    Steve sighs heavily. "Bucky. Bucky kept me occupied."

    "He didn't recognize me, or even my name." I say. "If you told me about him, why didn't you tell him about me?"

    "Bucky only recently became stable. For a while he faded in and out, and whatever I told the good side of him, the bad side would know too. I didn't want him to hunt you down thinking you were a target."

    "The facility where they kept him, where he was brainwashed...I was there too."

Steve stands up and holds his arms out. I push myself off the sofa and wrap my arms around him again.

    "I should've kept searching for you..."

    "Hey," I say, pulling away so he can see my face. "It's okay. God knows what they would have done if you had."

    He lets me go and gestures to the couch. "Get some rest. I'll stay until you fall asleep."

I lay down on the couch, facing outward.

    "Goodnight, Essa," he says.

    "Mmm," I hum, already falling asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

A gun fires and I wake from my nightmare, gasping and breathing deeply. I sit up straight, head between my hands, eyes closed. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Four counts in, four counts out. I take one last deep breath and lean back against the couch.

    "Are you okay?" I jump at the sound of Bucky's voice.

    "God, you scared me. I'm fine, it was just a nightmare." I run a hand through my hair.

He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, his brows furrowing in curiosity rather than confusion.

    "What---are your eyes glowing?" He asks incredulously.

    "Yeah," I say, almost smiling. "Side effect of the night vision surgery. Backfired. Glow in the dark eyes aren't exactly inconspicuous." I take another deep breath, finally calm.

    "What time is it? And where's Steve?"

    "About two in the morning. He left to buy groceries and things for you."

I laugh under my breath. Of course Steve would go shopping at two in the morning, even though nowhere but Walmart would be open.

    "He asked me to come and sit here, in case you woke up and found him gone." Bucky says. "It's good that he did."

    "Yeah." I say, still breathing deeply. "Sorry, it's going to take a while to get back to normal."

    He smiles sadly. "I know."

    I smooth my hair down one more time, then reposition myself on the couch. I grab the pillow I was previously using, putting it and my head in Bucky's lap. I close my eyes, intending to fall asleep again.

    "Let me know if you want me to move," I say quietly.

    I can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. "Sweet dreams,"

Just before I am fully asleep, I feel his fingers combing through my hair, repetitively, soothingly.


	5. Chapter 5

I wake in my room in the morning. I assume Bucky or Steve moved me sometime in the night. The clock across the room reads 11 am and the smell of bacon and waffles wafts from the kitchen. I hop out of bed and wince when my foot hits the floor and pain shoots up from my calf. I do my best to shower and wash quickly, running down the hall after changing, as fast as possible while still limping. I swing around the corner and slide into the kitchen on my socks.

    On the table lays heaps and heaps of food, more than enough. Waffles, pancakes, bacon, eggs every way possible, an endless array of fruit. The only thing missing is...

    "Coffee?" I ask, just as Steve blindly hands me a mug. Bucky stands a few steps away, arms crossed and smiling.

I take a deep breath. I haven't felt this calm in forever.

And just because I am happy for a millisecond, things begin to go wrong.

    The phone rings, and Steve takes a step toward it. Bucky begins to move toward me, with a worried look on his face, and the light in my reactor blinks out. And when hitting it with the palm of my hand doesn't work, I begin to panic.

    Steve freezes where he stands, the phone halfway to his ear. My heartbeat slows, and I wheeze for air, hyperventilating in reverse. I stumble backwards, leaning back against the couch. Steve begins to drop the phone when a voice speaks.

    "Don't hang up. You see, I'm holding a remote that could completely stop her heart at this very moment."

    I know that voice. Clearer through a phone than a loudspeaker, but I would recognize it anywhere. The accent, how every letter is enunciated clearly and crisply. It becomes even harder to breathe.

    With a look that could kill and a voice that could petrify, Steve says, "What do you want."

    "Oh nothing, really. Nothing more than for you to watch her suffer."

My vision blurs. I sound like a dying whale. Bucky's eyes widen and I know he has an idea, but just as he opens his mouth I faint.


	6. Chapter 6

I come back to life with a gasping breath, eyes wide. I'm laying down, and I stay down, because I know I won't have the energy to stay standing.

Bucky and Steve come into my line of sight.

    "What the hell happened?" I ask, rubbing my eyes and smoothing my hair back from my forehead.

    "You passed out." Bucky says.

    I move my hands from my face and glare at him. "No shit, Sherlock."

He shrugs.

    "How long have I been passed out?"

    "Almost three days." Steve says, clearly worried and stressed.

I sit up slowly, folding my legs and sitting cross legged. I'm wearing a men's flannel that's three sizes too big and definitely not mine.

    "How are you feeling?" Steve asks, handing me a glass of water.

    "Not too bad, considering I couldn't breathe when I passed out."

Before anyone can say anything else, Tony Stark walks into the room and sits in between Steve and Bucky.

    "Heyo! Nice of you to mention me," he says lightly. "I did save her life after all."

    "What--" I begin.

    "The reactor. JARVIS disabled the tech they used to control it."

    "Yes, but I'm the one that called you in the first place." Bucky says, raising an eyebrow at Tony.

    "Wait, sorry, hold on." I interrupt just as Steve is about to say something.

They all stop speaking.

    I turn to Tony. "You disabled the technology as in you stopped them from being able to control my reactor just this one time or from doing it ever again?"

    "Well technically it was JARVIS, though I did tell him what to do--"

    "Doesn't matter. Move on."

    Tony sighs of frustration, probably upset that he can't get a complete sentence out. "Ever again. But that's not the biggest issue on the table." He looks to Steve and Bucky before turning back to me. "How long ago was it installed? Do you know?"

    I pinch the bridge of my nose. "The guy set off the bomb about three or four months in, so two years? Maybe more. I don't know exactly."

    "I'm surprised it lasted that long," Tony says.

    "Why? Is there a problem?" Bucky takes a step toward me. 

     Stark takes a deep breath. "Yeah, a little bit. The battery that's preventing the shrapnel from reaching her heart is old, so it's not stopping the shrapnel, it's just slowing it down. In all honesty you should be dead by now."

    I stand. "Well, we're wasting time then. Let's go." Stark follows me without a second thought.

    "What?" Steve asks, but he nevertheless grabs a jacket and follows us. 

    Stark grins. "Come on, Capsicle, catch up."

    Bucky steps in, explaining to Steve. "We've gotta go to the compound. That's where the materials are to give Essa a new reactor."

    "A plus, Manchurian candidate. A plus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, it is totally unrealistic for a human being to be passed out for three days straight and wake up and be totally fine. But for literature and entertainment's sake, we can overlook that, right?


	7. Chapter 7

Luckily the compound is relatively empty by the time Stark gets us there. We almost died several times, but at least we got there in record time. 

    Tony makes no hesitation and goes directly to his lab. Dr. Banner stands in the middle of the room, looking down at something. He looks up when we walk into the room. 

    "Is that--" he begins, but Stark cuts him off. 

    "Help first, questions later."       

    Banner nods. "Got it."

I follow Tony as he makes his way through the connecting rooms. He stops when he reaches a room with a chair in the middle of the floor--the type of chair you'd sit in at the dentists office. 

    "Hop up, Hydra." He pats the headrest of the chair. 

    "Really? That's my nickname?"

Now standing at a nearby table fiddling with tools, he looks back at me, looks me up and down, nods, and turns back to the table. 

    "Yup. You don't get to change it either."

    "Seriously, I can't put in a formal request for a change of nickname?" I ask as I lean back in the chair. 

    "Nope."

    "Well, fuck."

Tony laughs. He turns when footsteps enter the room. 

    "Ah, look who decided to join us!"

Steve and Bucky stand facing me, backs against the wall, arms crossed, deadly stare. 

    I raise my eyebrows at them. "Guys, chill. You look like bodyguards."

    Tony turns, tools in hand, and walks to me. "Alright, this shouldn't take too long. Big green in the other room is perfecting my most recent prototype of the arc reactor. It'll power itself, won't give you any palladium poisoning, and it's a stronger battery. It should last your lifetime, but problems happen and it can be replaced if necessary. Got that?"

    I nod, leaning back in the chair. "This won't hurt, will it?"

    He raises an eyebrow. "What, worried about a little pain?"

    "Absolutely."

    "Nah, shouldn't be too bad. Maybe a little discomfort, but nothing serious." He shrugs. 

Banner walks in, holding a small arc reactor. It looks incredible. Sleek, clean, and lit. 

    I look over Tony's shoulder. "What shape is it?"

He gives me a weird look. 

    "You know, your first reactor was a circle, the next upgrade was a triangle, and now you don't have one? Do I get a special shape?"

    Banner looks down at the reactor and looks back to me apologetically. "Sorry, it's just a circle." He hands it off to Tony, then pulls a small heart rate monitor next to me and begins attaching the electrodes to my forehead and chest. 

    I groan dramatically. "But I wanted a diamond!"

Banner looks taken aback, Steve and Bucky roll their eyes, and Tony snickers. 

    "Yeah, yeah, shut it, drama queen." Tony stands over me with the new reactor in his hand. 

    "I thought I was hydra?"

    "Same difference. Now will you kindly shut up so I can save your life?"

I hold up my hands in surrender. Banner stands on my right. Tony inspects my reactor for a few moments. He grabs a screwdriver and unlatches the four hinges around the reactor. Then he goes in with his hands and gently lifts it up, wires and all. A small tug and the thing is free. It literally feels as if a weight was lifted from my chest. There is a gaping hole where there should be flesh and blood. It's unnerving. I close my eyes. 

    Tony notices. "Deep breaths. You're fine. Your heart rate is stable."

Instead of nodding and risking movement, I do as he says. Four counts in, four counts out. 

    "There's a little bit of rust, so I need to clean the inside of the cavity."

    "Okay."

There's a slight pressure as he takes a cloth and  gently swipes the metal walls. The monitor spikes for a second before stabilizing again. I keep my eyes closed as Tony attached the new reactor. A satisfying click and it's in place. I open my eyes and take a deep breath. 

    I look down at my chest. The new reactor gleams, bright silver, new and shiny. I can't help but smile. 

    "Thanks, Stark," I turn to my right. "And Banner." I add. 

I begin to sit up slowly, but Bucky, whom I didn't realize had moved to stand next to me, gently pushes me back down.

    "While we're here, your stitches need to come out anyway." Bucky says. Steve hands him a first aid kit. 

    "No, it's only been four days. They need to stay in for another day or so. It's too early to take them out."

    "Normally, they'd stay in for six or seven days, yes, but they must have done something to your DNA because you're healing faster than normal."

I close my eyes and sigh, debating if I should argue or not.

    "Fine." I say.

Steve and Tony leave the room. Steve comes back a few moments later with Advil and a glass of water. I knock back the medicine.

    Bucky stays standing. I hold my leg and arms out. After cleaning the wounds one more time with alcohol, he takes a pair of tweezers and gently tugs on the stitches. The thread pulls through my skin easily. After the stitches are out he cleans the injuries again.

While he works I am caught up in my thoughts and can't stop my emotions from showing. My eyes sting and my throat begins to close up.

    "I know that voice."

Bucky pauses and looks at me, confused. Steve does the same.

    "What voice?" Steve says slowly, moving toward me.

    "The voice over the phone. I recognized it just before I passed out. It was one of the voices from the Hydra facility."

The two share a look and turn back to me, waiting for me to finish.

    "At the facility there were several voices, and each of them did different things, had different jobs. The one over the phone is the voice that triggered us just before missions."

My throat closes completely and I stand up.

    "Essa," Steve and Bucky both say.

    "I'm fine." I rub my forehead. “Can we head back to the apartment?”

They nod, and soon enough we’re on our way.

\--------------

The trip back is relatively silent. When we get back to the apartment, I start towards my room, but Steve stops me.

    “Ess, do you want to talk about it?”   
    “Not particularly. Thanks for the offer.”

I turn my back and walk out of the room.

    I take another shower. Water was the only thing Hydra didn't use to torture me, so I take a lot of showers and baths, hoping it will be enough to wash me clean from everything. It never is.

I let my hair air dry to try to keep it damp as long as possible. After the shower I lay on my bed, lights off, staring at the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling I begged Steve to buy. A heavy knock on my door gives away Bucky.

    "Come in," I say, unmoving.

He walks into my room, and if he's confused at what I'm doing, he doesn't question it. Instead he sits at my desk and waits for me to speak. It takes a while, but eventually I do.

    "Do you remember the words they used to put your brain in winter soldier mode? I remember mine. They don't work anymore, but they certainly don't incite a happy memory."

    "A few, but not all of them. If repeated with enough force, I'm afraid they might still work." He says.

    "You had nine, right? They only gave me four. Apparently that was enough to control me." I pause, taking a deep breath. "Jupiter, thirteen, safety, and red. They chose things I loved and gave them a negative connotation that will never go away." I close my eyes, breathing through my nose.

I feel my bed shift, and when I open my eyes, Bucky is laying on his back next to me, eyes at the glowing ceiling.

    He furrows his brows. "What are you, five years old?" He says, half serious and half teasing.

I elbow him. "For the record, I was 15 when I asked for the stars. Plenty old enough to make rational, mature decisions."

He rolls his eyes, unimpressed. We lay there, side by side, in silence for a few moments.

    Bucky speaks. "What is the metal on the back of your neck? What did they do to you?"

    I take a deep breath. "After a few surgeries they decided it took too long and was too inefficient to keep opening up my skull to get to my brain. So they cut out the skin at the base of my neck and replaced it with metal that could be easily screwed in or taken off. Somehow they attached extremely thin wires that run from each part of my brain to the back of the panel. If they wanted to change something, they just adjusted the wires. They can literally rewire my brain. I'm not sure how they managed to attach the wires, but I remember that I was awake for that surgery. They couldn't put me to sleep because it would affect the connection. It was the worst and most painful of all the surgeries."

    "That's why you were screaming so loudly." Bucky says quietly.

    "Yeah."

    I yawn loudly. "What time is it?"

    Bucky looks at his watch. "3 in the afternoon."

    I laugh humorlessly. "Damn, my sleep schedule is fucked."

    "If you take a nap I won't tell anyone." He says, smiling.

    "Are you sure? I'm worried I'll get in trouble." But I'm already moving to rest my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes.

    "Okay, now don't move and wake me up."

    He laughs, and says, "Sweet dreams."

I yawn again, and after a few moments, I fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH that surgery probably isn't possible, but it sounded cool and made sense for the story so whoops there it is.


	8. Chapter 8

*Bucky’s POV*

"Hey, Es--" Steve opens the door and walks into the room. I put a finger to my mouth and gesture to Essa with the other hand. Steve goes silent. I can't read his expression. He continues into the room and sits at the foot of the bed slowly so as not to wake her. She rolls over, facing the wall, curled into the fetal position. I sit up and face Steve.

    "What's up?" I ask quietly.

He looks down at Essa with obvious concern.

    "I'm worried about her,"

    "Me too."

    He sighs. "Buck, you know you're my best friend. I am begging you, please be careful around her. She's been through enough as it is and I don't want things to get worse."

    "You're worried I'll turn into the soldier and hurt her. That's why you didn't tell me about her these past few years."

    He sighs again, looks down, looks back up at me. "Do you blame me?"

    "No." I look at Essa. She seems so peaceful. "She had it worse than me. I can't imagine what missions they sent her on. What training they put her through. It had to have been horrible."

    We sit in comfortable silence for a minute. Then Steve stands. "Fury called another meeting for tomorrow morning. Will you wake her up and let her know? We don't have to go anywhere. Everyone's coming over here. I think she'll be more comfortable."

    "Sure," I say as he leaves the room.

                        -----------------                             

Bucky wakes me up by resting his left hand on my shoulder. I sit upright quickly, regretting it as my vision blurs and takes a moment to refocus.

    I rub my eyes and try to not be annoyed. "What's up?"

    "Sorry to wake you. Steve wanted me to tell you, Fury and the others are coming over tomorrow morning so you can fill them in."

    I yawn. "Okay. Wake me up before they come?"

    "Sure." He says.

I lay back down and I'm out within a few minutes.


	9. Chapter 9

I'm a bit less calm when Bucky wakes me in the morning. This time instead of coming to attention, I fling an arm out, accidentally whacking him in the process. Then I sit up straight.

    "Sorry!" I say before I've even focused on him.

    "Don't worry about it," he says, rubbing his bicep. "I'm not hurt that easily."

    "If you're calling me weak I'll hit you again," I glare at him.

    He laughs, holding his hands out. "Never,"

I take them and he pulls me up out of bed. I stand and stretch, yawning.

    "I can't remember the last time I slept that well for that long."

    "I know the feeling. Come on, it's 9:30. Everyone will be here in half an hour and you need a real meal."

He heads down the hall to the kitchen, where I can already smell food.

    "Yeah, considering last time I went unconscious before I could actually eat." I say as we enter the small room.

    "Don't jinx it," Steve hands me a plate piled with toast, bacon, and eggs over easy. Next he hands me a mug of coffee.

    "Fill up. Fury's going to want to know everything, which I imagine is a lot, so you'll need the energy."

    "Thanks," I say as I pick up my fork.

    "Are you going to put on real clothes or stay in sweatpants?" Bucky asks jokingly.

    I look down at my outfit, sweatpants and a loose t shirt, and then glare at him. "Sweatpants are real clothes, for the record. But yeah I should probably change."

    I gracefully finish off my plate in the next 30 seconds and run down the hall back to my room. I pull on jeans and a sweater before raking a brush through my hair and running back out to the kitchen. I pull my hair up and wrap it around itself into a messy bun, out of my face and out of the way.

    "Time?"

    "9:52," Steve says.

    "Perfect." I sit back down, wrapping my hands around the still-warm mug of coffee. Just after I take a sip, someone knocks on the door. Steve goes to answer it, and eight people file into Steve's small apartment.

    Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Vision, and Sam, all following Fury.

I am speechless as they all find a place to sit or stand. Luckily everyone but Bucky and Steve, who sit on either side of me, keep their distance, so I don't feel too overwhelmed.

    "You weren't kidding. This really is everyone." I say quietly. Bucky nods.

    I make eye contact with Fury. "So how do we want to do this, do you want to ask me questions or do you want me to just start talking?"

A few people, I think Sam and Natasha, snicker quietly.

    Fury almost smiles. "How about you just tell us your story? If there are any gaps I'll ask."

    "Got it." I take a deep breath before speaking.

    "Some of you already know this, but I was in an orphanage for 9 years. Steve adopted me and he became my big brother for the next few years. Hydra kidnapped me three years ago. I'm technically 21, but unless I was undergoing surgery or carrying out a mission, I was in cryo. So really I still feel like I should be in high school.

    "Anyway. For the first few months after they took me, they put me through 22 surgeries to try and make me the perfect super soldier. They gave me night vision, they fixed my metabolism so I can't gain or lose weight, they made me ambidextrous, they perfected my immune system, and they made me fluent in 27 languages. Among other things. After the first 4 or 5 surgeries they got tired of opening up my skull every time to get to my brain, so they installed this," I turn, revealing the metal panel. "And attached wires to the different parts of my brain which all come to connect at the panel. So if they wanted to change something, they just had to open up the panel and mess with the wires, instead of surgically accessing my brain every time."

I pause for a second to take a sip of my coffee.

    "Somewhere in that time the guy in the cell next to me set off a makeshift bomb, and shrapnel was buried in my chest. They had an example so they did the exact same thing and put in this," I tap the reactor protruding from my chest. "I assume Tony filled you in with the details, but I'll just tell you that it doesn't work very well."

    "How many others were there?" Fury asks as he crosses his arms.

    "To begin with, I don't know. 11, at least. When we were all taken. Right after they kidnapped me they put us all in a dark room and spoke from outside, through some sort of loudspeaker. They explained what would be happening to us, and what they would do if we stepped out of line. Within the first few months, after all the surgeries, there were four of us left. Over the years the other three disappeared. I was the only one left. I don't know what happened to the others. I can only assume they died, or were killed off.

    "In terms of what Hydra was planning, what we were for, I honestly don't know. They never told me any information and there was no way for me to get it. They had awful ways of punishing us, so no one ever stepped out of line. I can only assume that they were trying to create more brainwashed super soldiers, but a better, stronger, more reliable version." I turn to Bucky. "No offense."

He shrugs. "None taken."

    I turn back to Fury. "None of us could ever remember the missions we were sent on, what they were for, who we killed. They triggered us and sent us off. We had no memory afterward."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath.

    "I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you. That's all I know. I can't name the doctors who operated on me because I never saw their faces. We never saw anyone's faces. We only heard voices."

    "After everything I imagine you've been through, you seem to have come out alright." Fury says calmly.

The other people in the room must feel the shift in my attitude. They must see the glint in my eye because they rustle uncomfortably. Some clear their throats. Others cross their arms. Bucky uncrosses his and rests a hand on the back of my chair protectively.

    "Yeah. You could say that," I respond, smiling coldly, holding back my anger.

Steve notices. He steps forward and gracefully ends our little meeting, no shouting or cussing involved. Within a few minutes they file out the door. Tony tries to approach me but I glare at him until he walks away.

    I stand from my seat after everyone has left. Bucky rests his hand on my arm. "Essa--"

But I'm already turning away.

    "I'm going to take a shower." I walk down the hall, shutting the door firmly behind me.

It's then that I realize it was the first time I shut him down.


	10. Chapter 10

Just after I get dressed, I pull on my running shoes and tie my wet hair into a ponytail. I walk confidently toward the front door, doing my best not to make eye contact with Steve, who sits on the couch.

He sees me anyway.

    "Where are you going?" He asks. Like he honestly wants to know, not like he's implying I can't leave. Which he also does, subtly.

    "For a run. Just around the block. I'm not going far." I say, my hand on the doorknob.

    "Do you think that's a good idea?" He asks, concerned.

    "Honestly, no. But I don't care, I have to get out and get moving."

    "You're not going alone," Steve says just as Bucky walks into the room, also wearing workout clothes and running shoes.

    I sigh, annoyed. "And here comes the obligatory 'I'm not a kid anymore' argument."

    "I'll go with her," Bucky says. He and Steve share a look that I can't read.

    "Okay," Steve agrees tentatively. "But don't go far."

    "Yes sir," I say as sarcastically as possible as I walk out the door.

    Bucky doesn't speak as we leave the apartment complex and step outside. The warm summer air is thick and humid. Dark storm clouds in the sky hint at a coming storm. I don't care.

    Without turning to make sure Bucky is following me, I start running. I run as fast as my sore muscles will let me. I breathe deeply, straining my lungs. I recall my favorite song and play it in my head, purposefully tuning out the sounds of the city. I don't hear any cars. I don't see any bicyclists or street lights. My feet follow the path I used to run when I was happy. Before Hydra.

I remember the electricity. The shocks that delivered when I didn't. The men and women I used as target practice. I remember the chains, the food set in front of me that was promised if I could break the chains and get to it. But they were vibranium. I remember the falsified screams played on repeat of Steve, the one person I loved. The thickly accented voices that screeched and scolded. And I run faster.

    Within moments I am so emotional and so exhausted that I stop altogether. My legs give in and I collapse against the nearest wall. I can't breathe. It's raining now. Water drips from my hair and my hands and my elbows and I am gasping for breath. I look down at the reactor, momentarily forgetting that its new and improved, and it's lit, it's working. It's my heart that's failing me, not the foreign technology installed in my chest. Even my own body betrays me.

    I'm not sure how long I am sitting on the wet cement, rain soaked and dripping. I finally open my eyes and my face is wet. I cannot discern from rainwater or tears. My eyes focus on Bucky, reluctantly sitting in front of me because he can't move me but he won't leave me. When he sees that I've focused on him his expression changes and his arms uncross and he moves to sit next to me. His mouth opens and he's talking, he's speaking to me but I don't hear him. I can't make out the words or read his lips.

    At the base everything was so hospital like and sanitized and isolated. I was confined, secluded, abandoned, only ever poked and prodded with instruments and medical tools and metal chains. Realizing this I suddenly need physical contact with another person. I need the warmth and the comfort that was taken from me for three years.

    I'm not sure how it happens or who moves first but I become enveloped in Bucky's arms. It's still raining and I'm still crying but he's holding me and I can feel his heart beating strong and steady. The rain is loud and consuming that I'm not sure how long it takes me to realize he's been saying my name over and over again. I pull away, my face inches in front of his, taking deep breaths in between sobs. He holds my wrists firmly between us, maintaining physical contact, and I can hear his voice over the rain.

    "Essa, you're relapsing. Look at me,"

I wipe the rain from my eyes, Bucky still holding my wrists.

    "Look at me," he says, louder.

I do. I focus on him, studying his face, his blue eyes, the wet hair plastered to his forehead.

    "Essa."

Our eyes lock.

    "Let me help. You're relapsing."

I calm slightly, still crying but quiet.

    "Think about Steve. Think about the posters in your room. Think about the stars on the ceiling. Think about the real stars. Hey, look at me,"

I close my eyes briefly but he calls me back to reality.

    "Imagine winter in New York. Picture the snow, how everything is covered in a layer of white. Think about your favorite movie. Your favorite actor. Your favorite color. Talk to me, what's your favorite color?"

    My voice is thick and hoarse when I speak. "Red,"

    "Red, good. What about Steve, what do you love most about Steve?"

    I smile around my tears. "He's family, he's always treated me like his sister,"

He's smiling and I'm breathing deeply and the rain is still pouring over us. We sit in silence for a few moments, staring at each other.

    "Are you okay?" He asks suddenly.

    I take a deep breath and nod. "I mean no, I'm never going to be okay, but I'm better."

I stand, offering him my hands even though he doesn't need my help. He takes them anyway.

    "Let's go home."

    The walk back to the apartment is an understanding silence. We don't speak. Bucky keeps an arm around my waist, my shoulders, or hooked on my arm because the meltdown left me with no energy. I walk slowly, shaking the whole way back. And when I step into the apartment and Steve rushes toward me I know I owe him an explanation but I can't bring myself to speak. Instead I am content in the hug he attacks me with. I deal with the scolding because I know it's out of love. And when he asks me what happened, am I okay, what can he do to help, all I can say is "I don't want to talk about it,"

And I walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this one was a bit hard to write.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read a lot of works where the author makes a post about all the songs they listened to while writing. Let me know if you want me to do that!

*Bucky’s POV*                          

There is a wet spot on the front of Steve's shirt from where he hugged Essa, who was still dripping wet. When she leaves the room he takes a step to follow her but thinks better of it, respecting her boundaries. Then he turns to me.

    "What happened?"

I grab a towel from the kitchen, draping it over my head and trying to dry my hair.

    "She relapsed. Not in the sense that she just started killing everyone." Steve crosses his arms. "She just kind of lost it. She broke down and couldn't do anything but cry for half an hour. After that she finally focused on me and was registering what I was saying. I don't know what she was thinking of, and I'm not sure I want to."

He begins to speak but I interrupt.

    "She knows she needs to explain everything. But after what just happened, give her some space. Let her come to you. Don't push her. Trust me, I know."

He doesn't look happy about it, but I can tell that he understands.


	12. Update

Okay so here's the deal. Since I am in college, I need to focus on my academics. I really have to get my GPA back up this quarter, so I won't have any extra time to update this within the next month and a half. I have a bunch of edits to make, chapters to add, and whatnot, but I want to do it all in one sitting. Unfortunately that won't be until mid-June. To the nearly 500 people who have read this, thank you so so much!! That's pretty cool in my opinion. Feel free to leave comments, because I can certainly respond to those. Anyway....see you all mid June!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Not for long unfortunately. I've made some updates. I'd suggest going back and rereading if you've been following the story up to this point, because I've made some changes in earlier chapters. So here ya go. Thanks again for reading!

It takes a really long time for my eyes to fully dry. I don't leave my room until the redness subsides, the puffiness goes away, and the tears stop. When that finally happens I find Steve in the living room. I sit across from him on the couch, and I tell him everything.

    My sentences aren't complete, my voice cuts off every now and then, and I choke on my words, but I keep talking. Bucky walks in and sits next to Steve after a while. I tell them about the surgeries, the training, the missions I remember, the aftermath, the ways they tortured me. Shocks, taunts, psychological distortion, and the grand finale, the graduation ceremony they stole from the Red Room. By the time I'm finished, Steve is standing, his back turned to me, and Bucky keeps his head down, looking at his hands, which are clasped together.

We sit in silence for a long few minutes.

    Bucky is the first to speak. "Steve, it's her choice. She should make it."

Steve turns, nodding, his eye bloodshot. He makes eye contact with me anyway. When he speaks, his voice is clear.

    "Fury wanted to bring you in for testing. You're the first stable, and willing, subject from Hydra that we've had. He wants to put you through different physical, mental, and psychological tests. I said no, for the time being. But Buck's right, it's your decision."

    I don't hesitate. "I'll do it,"

    "Ess," Steve begins, surely to convince me not to.

    "No," I say forcefully. "If it'll help SHIELD find the people responsible for this or any other people that had the same thing happen to them, I'll do it. I don't want anyone else going through hell."

    Steve looks down, but nods. He takes a deep breath. "Okay. I'll let Fury know in the morning."

At this moment I realize I have completely lost track of time since my reactor stopped working.

    "What time is it? And what day?" I ask.

    "About 10 at night, and it's June 27th." Steve responds, looking at his watch. He clears his throat before leaving the room.

I look to Bucky. I can't read his expression. I leave before he can say anything.     


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello there friends! I'm back after a year of no updates. I've gone back and forth on whether I want to include this chapter, scrap it, or completely rewrite it. I still haven't decided, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to put it up anyway. Here ya go!

Back in my room, I lie on my bed once again, staring at the glowing stars. When there are no more sounds in the apartment and I'm sure both of them have gone to bed, I grab the flannel and walk out of the apartment as quietly as possible. I take a few flights of stairs to the roof of the complex, where it, thankfully, is completely empty.

     It stopped raining. I don't know how many hours or days it's been since the storm, but based on the clear sky, it wasn't recent. I walk to the edge of the roof, carefully sitting on top of the small ledge and dangling my feet five stories above the street. Looking down, the cars appear insignificant, the people even more minuscule. I'd forgotten that New York streets were never empty.

     After surveying the bustling city streets beneath, I look to the sky above. The storm clouds had long since cleared from the sky, leaving only the thick atmosphere to blur the constellations. The summer air is cool and comfortable, and the lingering scent of rain still hangs in the air.

With my back to the door, I don't see Bucky when he comes up behind me. I can't tell it's him until he speaks.

"Essa?" He calls out, stopping a safe distance from the edge of the roof, where I sit. "Please don't jump." His voice sounds small and filled with apprehension.

I look at him over my shoulder, making eye contact briefly before I turn back to the skyline in front of me.

"I thought about it, but no, I wasn't planning on it."

Bucky sighs, relieved. He closes the distance between us and sits to my left, also dangling his feet over the edge.

"I was getting ready to give you the whole 'it's only temporary, life gets better' speech."

I laugh briefly. "Thanks for sparing me."  
After a few quiet moments I turn to look at him.  
"You know, you keep telling Steve to give me space and let me come to him when I'm ready and all that bullshit, but whenever I'm alone, you come find me. Why is that?" I deliberately make eye contact with him and raise an eyebrow.

His eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to speak but I interrupt.  
"Do you think you know what's best for me and Steve doesn't?"

"No, I--"

"Want to get Steve out of the way?"

"No, that's not-"

"That's not what you're intending or that's not how you were going to word it?"  
He huffs and crosses his arms, looking at me, clearly baffled and bewildered.

     Several times he opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it every time and instead remains silent, keeping eye contact with me. He knows I'm only teasing him, and I smile at his loss for words.

"You're such a little jackass." He says eventually, tilting his head to the sky and looking at the stars.

"I get it from Steve." I respond quickly.

"But really, what's the deal?" I ask, this time in seriousness.

Bucky sighs. "After I came out of it, it really helped me to be around friends. Being alone made it worse. I figured having someone around with shared experiences would help you too. Even if you don't want to talk about it, sometimes just the presence of a friend can make the world of a difference." Here he pauses and turns back to look at me. "And, you know, I care about you."

"And Steve doesn't?"

Bucky throws his arms in the air, stands, and walks away from me, exasperated.

"Oh, come on, I'm kidding! I'm sorry!" I call after him, even though I'm really not. I stand as well, but I stay atop the ledge, wavering slightly in the breeze. I turn my back on the five story drop.

"Come down from there, you're going to fall!" He says, now walking back toward me.

"No, I'm not, I'm invincible!" I shout to the star speckled sky, arms outstretched. Being cautious never made me feel as alive as being reckless did, which Steve always hated.

     Bucky stands directly below me, hands on his hips, waiting for me to come down. I roll my eyes and jump down from the ledge. Back on the roof I walk to the large lounge chairs that are always kept next to the small maintenance shed. I drag one out to the middle of the roof and then bring the other right next to it. I get comfortable in one of them and he sits in the other.

"Spend a lot of time up here?" He asks.

"Yup. Steve hates heights so he never follows me. It also tends to be much quieter than anywhere else in the city, so during the school year I would bring my homework up here and study for hours. Unless it was raining, snowing, or extremely hot."

"I have a very serious question for you." He says.

"Shoot,"

"What's your favorite book?" He asks, dead serious.

I turn to look at him, laughing confusedly. "Wow. Tone it down, Buck, your questions are getting way too deep." After I've finished laughing and making fun of him, I answer his question. "The Catcher in the Rye. Classic J.D. Salinger."

He snorts. "What, not The Great Gatsby?"

I know he's making fun of me but I answer seriously anyway. "God, no. Gatsby was far too pretentious."

Bucky snorts again, this time louder.

"What, did you think it was going to be Harry Potter or some shit?"

"Actually, yes I did."

"No, Harry Potter was too slow. It couldn't keep my interest so I stopped reading halfway through the fourth book." He's laughing at me again. "Well, what about you? What's YOUR favorite book?"

He shrugs, crossing his arms. "I don't read all that much."

I gasp in fake revulsion. "That's it. Our friendship is over. I knew it wasn't going to work out."

"I do write, though."

"Nope. That does not justify the fact that you don't read."

"Fine then."

"Okay, what's your favorite subject? Like way back when you were in school a million years ago."

"I'm not that old! And I thought you said our friendship was over."

I shrug and tilt my head to the side. "What can I say, I'm a fast-paced character."

"Oh my God," he mumbles under his breath, annoyed at me. Then he speaks up. "Science. Chemistry in particular. I liked lighting stuff on fire and blowing things up."  
"Of course you did." I roll my eyes, though I don't think he can see me. "Okay, what about your favorite artist? Like a band or a singer."

"Fall Out Boy, without a doubt."

"Finally, something we can agree on! But wait, what's your favorite album? I would ask your favorite song but it's simply impossible to choose a favorite Fall Out Boy song."

Bucky laughs and nods in agreement. "If I could only listen to one album for the rest of my life I would probably choose Save Rock and Roll, but I love quite a few of their older and more recent songs."

"I approve." I say, smiling.

     After that Bucky doesn't offer a response, and I don't have anything else to say. We sit in silence, deep in our own thoughts, staring at the sky. I curl up with my knees to my chest, wrapping the flannel around my stomach. As usual, Bucky breaks the silence with a question.  
"Are you okay?" Is all he says, but I know he means more than just my current state of being.

"I'm...alive," Is the only thing I can think to say. "Right now that's all that really matters. I'm alive, and safe, for the time being. I hope to God that I don't relapse again, but it's not something I think I can control." Bucky remains silent, and I keep talking. "I don't know about you, but most of the time I just feel empty. It feels like a mild depression and I don't know what to do about it. It's like I'm feeling everything and nothing all at once and I just..stop. I stop thinking or moving or anything. I'm trying to process what's happening and what I'm feeling but I can't."

     Bucky stands up and walks over to my chair. I straighten and make room for him to sit next to me. The chair is large enough to hold us both. As soon as he settles I rest my head on his chest, listening closely to his heartbeat. His arms wrap around me and he pulls me close.

"I know what you mean," he says. "That sounds like what I was feeling when I started to get my memories back."

"How did you do it?"

"What?"

"Forgive and forget. How did you manage to move on?"

His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath. "I didn't, really. I just figured that living in the past wouldn't help me adapt to the present."

"That sounds so fucking cheesy."

Bucky laughs. "It does. But it's also true."

I smile but don't offer a response.

"Are you getting tired? We can go back in if you want."

I shake my head. "No, I've slept enough in the past few years. And I don't want a nightmare to ruin this."

Silence.

"Did you ever try to kill yourself?" When the words come out of my mouth I am surprised at how calm I sound.  
He takes another deep breath and sighs. "No, I didn't. They never allowed me the opportunity."

His fingers trace absent minded patterns on the exposed skin just above the waistband of my pants. He's already trying to soothe and calm me because he knows what I'm going to say next.

"I did." I swallow. "Several times. It took them a while to figure out that when they gave me a weapon I'd immediately turn it on myself. They eventually learned to trigger me before handing me any weapons."

His arms tighten and I move even closer to him. I sigh and smile. His fingers have stopped moving and his hand lays flat on my hip.

"If Steve comes up here and sees us he's gonna kick your ass. You know that, right?"

Bucky laughs. "Bring it on."

I smile again. "Hey, do you know if Steve called Fury yet?"

He lifts his wrist to look at his watch. "Well, seeing as it is currently two in the morning, probably not."

"Shit, it's late. Early. Whatever."

He laughs quietly. "Do you want to go back inside?"

"No, I'll sleep right here if that's cool with you."

I can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. "Yeah, that's cool with me."

And with that, I adjust my position and rest my head in the crook of his neck, my hand on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat and it lulls me to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all honesty I have no clue what Bucky's favorite band would be, so I chose to make it up.


End file.
